A Silent I Love You
by AlmaraKasada
Summary: Fawn has always been by Ulfric's side, silently watching over him, trying to convince herself that it is her instincts as a thief to use him. But when the young assassin and thief begins to fall in love with him, she has to figure out where her heart lies, or everyone she loves could end up dead.
1. Chapter 1

The girl's name was Fawn. At least, that was the name Ulfric gave her. She rarely spoke, and when she did, it was often in gibberish. Ulfric wasn't even sure if the girl knew any language. Perhaps her understanding came from the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes. He, however, didn't need her to speak to know that she loved him. She told him that in every other way.

It was late into the evening when Ulfric returned. Blood still stained his face and clothes. Ulfric remained stoic as he walked across the great hall towards the bedchambers. Galmar was awake. But then again, of course he was awake. He was like a little lap dog, always there until Ulfric returned.

"So it is done?" Galmar asked with a cruel grin.

"The boy died with honor, Galmar," Ulfric stated, "You'll do well to remember that."

Galmar didn't catch on to Ulfric's tone. He lumbered about room like a bear and flicked a tiny crown off the map that was spread across the table. "Our armies will double in size, now, Ulfric! Any true son or daughter of Skyrim will come running to Windhelm!"

"And so will all the Imperials here to arrest me. They don't take kindly to king slaying. Not even in a duel."

"We are prepared for that, Ulfric. They won't be sending an army after you, of course. But anything less than that isn't getting in here."

"Very good. Now, if you'll excuse me. I've had a long day."

Ulfric turned and made his way to his bedroom. Upon entering, he could feel her presence. He closed the door, dismissed the night guard, and extinguished the candles. He then sat on his bed and disrobed down to his pants and socks. He sat on the bed then and exhaled, silently breathing her name. Almost instantly, he felt her hands stroke from his back to his chest and her arms embrace him in a hug.

His chest began to heave as he gasped her hand tightly. "Fawn, I have killed a boy in hopes that it would be worth it for the greater good. But this boy…This boy admired me and trusted me. And I took advantage of that. Does that make me a king? Or a killer?"

Hot tears ran down his face. Fawn brought out his more sensitive side. She was the only person that he really trusted, and sometimes he wondered if she was even real. The girl never spoke, but he owed her so much. During what would become known as the Markarth Incident, Ulfric nearly killed her. She was Forsworn, but in his brief moment of hesitation before plunging a sword into her chest, she touched his cheek and tilted her head, smiling up at him. He couldn't have killed her then. She was a child, perhaps fourteen years old. Ever since then, she has been there by his side, aiding him. She smuggled out his father's eulogy for him and brought it all the way to Windhelm. And when he returned, she was there. But she only revealed herself to him when he was alone. No one else had ever seen Fawn. Even when she was in Markarth, he was the only one who had ever seen her.

Now, as she comforted him to sleep, humming a gentle lullaby. He was soon fast asleep and Fawn closed her eyes as well, sleeping beside him.

Now, when you are pretending to be a mysterious wildling who cannot speak and will only be seen by a single person, it really pays off to be a light sleeper. Anyone sneaky enough to get into the room before you wake up has ill intentions and will die shortly thereafter, so it doesn't matter if they see you. Anyone else will make enough noise to wake you well before they can lay their eyes on you.

Fawn was a very light sleeper. And on this night it paid off. She was awake at the first step the person took into the room. At the second step she knew who it was. Fawn rolled out of bed, never sleeping under a blanket for precisely this reason.

"Gabriella," Fawn whispered in a singsong-y tone the second she was certain only the assassin would be able to hear her, "Can we not right now?"

The dark elf turned to her and silently giggled. "Why, sister, I never expected you to be here! I had my money on the Jarl of Falkreath. But no, your little pet is the racist 'king' himself."

"Let's take a walk, shall we?" Fawn asked, and the two assassins exited the Palace through the window.

Once they were walking along the frozen seaside, likely unseen to all others, Gabriella began to speak. "You know, had you simply told me that Ulfric Stormcloak was the little cub you've been so protective of, I could have killed the Jarl of Solitude the second she gave me his name."

"Wouldn't you have preferred to kill my 'little cub?'" Fawn asked.

"Oh, come now. I hardly care about his opinion of me. I could hardly care about anyone's opinion of me. I gave up all ties to Morrowind when I joined the Dark Brotherhood. As I, um, had assumed you did even before you found a family with us, when you joined the Thieves' Guild?"

Fawn glanced up at her fellow assassin and felt a tinge of guilt. The Guild were her friends now and the Dark Brotherhood was her family. She had cut all ties to the Forsworn, her only true family. But she had done that when she had chosen Ulfric.

"I still think this is going to work out for me," Fawn said, "I'd rather like him to become High King. So many more nobles to rob or kill or both. It would be much more fun that way, you know."

"Ahh, you clever little deer!" Gabriella grinned, intending the pun, "You're using him. And here you almost had me fooled. I was thinking that you loved him."

"And what would be the good of all that? He becomes High King and establishes himself here as a worthy and powerful ruler—let's just say that's possible. Let's say that he doesn't get himself killed within a few days of ruling. What happens then? He marries some noble woman who would have her guards kill me if they ever saw me. I could become a mistress, if that. I'd be screwing myself over."

"Yes, as is the struggle of loving the nobility," Gabriella laughed, "I do prefer assassinating the nobility. It's so much quicker and less painful."

Fawn did not reply, as was her tendency to do so.

"I'll leave him to you, then. I'll let the others know he's not to be touched, as I'm sure many will be wanting him dead."

Fawn thanked her sister and Gabriella disappeared into the shadows. The Breton returned to her place in Ulfric's bed. Gently, she stroked his cheek, telling herself she didn't love him.


	2. Chapter 2

Fawn knew that it was a trap. She feared for Ulfric ever since he had left for Darkwater Crossing. She didn't know what to do about it. She didn't know if there was anything she _could_ do about it. But more than anything, she didn't know why she cared so much. She refused to believe that she was actually growing fond of the old bear. Still, he was rather sweet. And he smelled good, like spiced meats and mead. Fawn never really cared for the taste of mead. She preferred spiced wine. But the smell was something that she had grown to enjoy.

Fawn shook her head and sat herself down in a chair, glancing over papers that were scattered about Ulfric's table. None of them held her interest, but she committed a few details to mind, in case she needed them. Underneath the pile, though, was a letter with an all too familiar symbol on it. She tore open the letter and read the three words quickly before tossing the letter into the fireplace.

What did the Guild want with her now? She hadn't spoken to Brynjolf in several months. The only person who actually knew where she was was Vipir, but that was only insurance. Vipir lied so often that no one would believe him if he told them where she was. She could only assume the letter came from him.

She rose from the chair and made her way to the tin window. She had to turn sideways to fit through it, but managed anyways. She was rather skilled at it by now. She scaled the wall quickly, being wary of the icy stones, and made it to the bottom and into the city, climbing down right in front of the New Gnisis Cornerclub. Walking in, she spotted the hooded figure in the corner almost immediately and pulled up a chair beside him.

"Vipir," she greeted simply, grasping the tankard in front of him and smelling it, finding it to be Argonian Mead, and set it down again in front of him. She then chuckled and added sarcastically, "'the Fleet.'"

"I was in town, Mira," he replied, "Thought you might want to know. Meet up. Talk about a few things."

"Like what? You looking to join the rebellion?" she scoffed, "And that's not my name anymore."

"You don't get to name yourself, _Fawn_ ," he replied.

She shrugged, "You did. And I'll have you know, I didn't. And no, you don't get to know who did. But, anyways, tell me, Vipir, why _are_ you here?"

"Why don't you get a drink and we'll talk?"

"Why don't you buy me a drink, lady killer?"

Vipir slid his mead towards her. She scowled and glared at him before standing up and buying herself a bottle of alto wine. She sat down, slammed her tankard down and poured a bit of the wine into it. She sucked it back, finding it agreeable, and then proceeding to drink from the bottle.

"You're different, Fawn," Vipir noted, "You're angry."

"I'm not angry," she replied, "This is how I act when I'm stressed."

"Something wrong?"

"Nothing you need worry about. Why am I here?"

"Well, there's the Guild's business. They want you back. Well, Brynjolf wants you back. He's been missing you. Plus, there was a rumor spreading about that you were dead. Brynjolf still thinks of you as his responsibility."

"Well, I'm not coming back just yet. I have far too many things to do here first. But do tell Bryn I'm alive. I'm not ready to face a pissed off Brynjolf just yet. Not to mention Mercer won't be thrilled to know I've been running this gig behind his back."

"And what is this 'gig' your pulling, Fawn."

"None of your damned business, that's what."

"Come on, Fawn. You know I can keep a secret."

"No, I know that no one would believe you if told anyone, they wouldn't believe you at this point."

"I didn't tell anyone where you were, Fawn."

"Bullshit. I can always tell when you're lying. I've made sure of that. I can tell when anyone's lying."

"Well, I'm a better pickpocket than you."

"Everyone's a better pickpocket than me. I have to knock someone out to take their house keys."

"I've offered to train you, Fawn. Several times."

Fawn sighed, "I know."

"I can help you with your heist, you know that, too."

Fawn sat pondering that. Anyone who wanted to could help her with her heist. But Vipir was here and offering. She didn't like it, but she wanted to make sure Ulfric was okay.

"If you really want to help," she said, "I need you to take me to help me find Ulfric Stormcloak. My plan relies on a Stormcloak victory and it's difficult to ensure that when the leader of the rebellion has gone missing."

"Well, I don't know where he is, but the rumor is that he's being taken to Helgen," Vipir grinned, having had knowledge she hadn't.

"What?" she gasped, "How…how do you know that? I haven't heard anything!"

"Nor would you in the big ol' palace over there. You need to get out in the world, Fawn. You need to rob people in places that aren't walled up. Like Darkwater Crossing."

"You came from Darkwater Crossing? Vipir! What happened?" she stood up now and grabbed him by the collar and shook him.

"Woah! Fawn, easy now! The Stormcloaks were caught in an Imperial ambush. They captured them without a fight and are taking them to Helgen. I heard the old general whispering that bit."

"Do you have a horse? Can you take me to Helgen?"

"Fawn, I told Vex that I'd be back by tomorrow—"

"I'll owe you!" Fawn blurted out, "Please, just help me out, Vipir. I'll owe you a favor."

Vipir grinned, "A favor you say? I suppose Vex can wait."

"We need to leave. Right now."

"Fine, fine. Come on. But you'll owe me."

Vipir threw a small purse of gold onto the table and the two thieves exited the building.


End file.
